Ripples on the Surface
by GoddessByline
Summary: What was the meaning behind her dreams? Who was the man who called himself Elrond? Her dreams had become harder to ignore and they had started to leak into her wakened hours as well. She was afraid that she was slowly losing her sanity. WIP
1. Ripples on the Surface Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that is written, invented and/or imagined by J.R.R. Tolkien. However, I do own what is my interpretation and abuse of his work. If you want to publish it, borrow from it, rewrite it and/or use it for stuffing your pillow with, just ask and I am sure to say yes! I do not receive any money out of it. This is written and published for entertainment and (hopefully) pleasure purposes only.

**Authors Note:** While this story contains the environment and characters from the J.R.R. Tolkien canon, it does however not follow it.

**Beta- reader: **Dorothy Noland (((hugs)))

**Proof-reader:** Mike Kelley *** kisses*******

Cheerleaders: Terri and Kit and Jon ~~~snargles~~~****

**Reviews:** As this is my very first attempt to write fan fiction in English (I am Swedish) I hope you all will at least try to be lenient with my manhandling of your beautiful language. Reviews will be most appreciated though and if they are constructive, I will cherish them and try to learn and improve from them. 

**Warning:** This is in a way a shameless Mary-Sue plot but hopefully without the "Mary-Sueness" and clichés connected with it. If that is not your cup of tea, do not bother to read it or flame it! Oh, I have also rated it R, because what would an M-S story be without a bit of sweetly described physical love?

**Summary:** What was the meaning behind her dreams of late? Who was the man who called himself Elrond, and why was he so set on trying to pull her into his consciousness? After breaking away from her old life and deciding to settle in a small cottage on the countryside her dreams had become harder to ignore. It was almost as if they had started to leak into her wakened hours as well. She was afraid. Afraid that she was slowly losing her sanity; losing her grasp of reality.

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**Title: Ripples on the Surface**

**Author: GoddessByline**

~*~

**Prologue**

She had been driving at a slow pace, and enjoying it, the naked landscape passing and turning to face the sun and its renewal. Down along the northern slopes the ground had been last year grey, but in the valleys she noticed that the birches had grown green little mouse ears. Beyond the meadow fields, she saw the bay water glimmering in the sun, and she felt the breeze from the sea, the one that smelled like life itself.

An hour later, she reached the intersection. The gravel dust fumed in the rear view mirror as she drove up towards the cottage with a feeling of assurance. She was finally home.

The place was old, a small red wood house with white trimmings, protected by silvery birches and a single apple tree. During the course of the past six months, this place had become her centre, more home than anywhere else in the world. This is a good place to live; she surprised herself thinking and then silently added, and a good place to die.

She got out of the car and stretched in the heated sun. Down toward the road and outside of the fence, the wood anemones laced the grass shaded from direct sunlight by pale green birch branches. Before unlocking the door, she had filled her hands with a bouquet and buried her face in it. Her face powdered with yellow pollen – she smiled.

This is home now.

No, this will not do, she decided after having filled a blue glass vase with water and placed the white flowers on the dining table. She had never been one to pity herself or feel remorse about things she could not change. The past was the past, and the future would find its own course if given time. She had made her decisions, and she had burned the last bridge.

With each trip she had made to the cottage during the past months, she had brought along with her bits and pieces of her life… her home. Later today, the truck loaded with the last things from her city flat would arrive and with that, there would no longer be any turning back. Her heart missed a beat at the thought, but she quickly composed herself again. This is what I want!

***

When had the dreams started? The fleeting face floating just under her vision, as if her sleeping unconscious eyes where just a little out of focus. She had grown so accustomed to its presence in her sleep that the times it was not there, she missed it. But how long had it been there? She was not sure.

She remembered the first time she heard the voice though! It had spoken to her in a low, almost whispering tone. Yet the voice had etched itself into her soul… Words she did not recognise nor understand, with an intonation she could not connect with any other language she had ever heard before. "Ten sí ye tyelma, yéva tyel. Ananta úva táre fárea, ufárea!" (Translation: For here is ending, and there will be an end. But yet it will not be enough, not enough!)

***

She woke up with a scream. Someone had touched her arm!

She rushed to her feet, clutching her right arm with her left hand. She looked around unable to orientate at first, the darkness of the night had fallen like a blanket over the room. Then she remembered where she was. A sigh of relief passed her lips as she found the wall switch and flooded the room with light. No one was there, no one but her. Everything looked just as it should, just as it had when she went to bed… What time is it? She glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. 1:28 am 

She splashed her face with cold water and repeated it a few times, as if to wash away the slowly fading memory of the dream. It was a dream, was it not? She stared back at her own reflection in the mirror above the white porcelain sink. Her face was pale, almost a shade of grey. I need to try to catch some sun today. The thought surprised her. Then she quietly laughed back at herself in the mirror, laughed at the irrational thought as she grabbed for the red plastic hairbrush and slowly began to drive it through her hair.

She remained there for a while standing in front of the mirror in her old worn cotton nightgown, while she with rhythmical strokes brushed her hair, as if to sooth herself back to calmness. Back to reality, back to the place she had decided would be her home from now on. She brushed herself back to here and now.

***

When the morning arrived, she was already up and dressed. She had decided that tonight, on her first day of freedom, the first day of the rest of her life, she would celebrate with a festive dinner just for her own pleasure and with her own company. She was going to spoil herself rotten. She smiled slowly at her frivolity, so unlike the old her.

When the sun was getting close to noon, she had cleaned the whole place. She thoroughly ran down all indoor walls with a broom, taking care to capture the dusty spider webs in the corners. She really hated spiders. Oh God, how she hated spiders! The old raw pine floors had been polished and varnished the month before. It had taken her a whole weekend, but it was worth it. Now all she had to do was to go over them with the vacuum cleaner. A couple of months earlier she had found the old multi-coloured rag carpets in a second-hand store. She brought them out from the back of the car and spread them over the grass in front of the porch. There she left them to breathe fresh air for almost an hour, then giving them a good shake before bringing them in to throw over the vacuumed pine.

The windows turned out to be the hard and slightly yucky part. It was the beginning of May, and spring had arrived with full force. When she opened them, fat, newly hatched bluebottle flies tumbled down, momentarily stunned. Realising they where free, they crawled on the windowsill before flying off with a loud buzzing. When done with the windows, she had to take a shower to get rid of the creeping feeling on her skin.

Driving her car in to the nearby by town only took twenty minutes. As always, she enjoyed every minute spent behind the wheel. She found an available parking spot close to the entrance of the small local supermarket. She was in and out again in what felt like no time at all.

What happened to all the years… They flew by so quickly, too quickly! Lost in her own thoughts she filled the refrigerator with the evening's expectations. One pound of fresh shrimp. It was luxury, she admitted, but she loved grilled shrimp. Veal chops, perhaps she could put them on the grill as well. Yes, she had made an effort. Strawberries, it was extravagant since it was the wrong season, and she knew just by the slightly artificial sweet fragrance that sipped through the plastic wrapping that they would not taste right. At the store, she had noticed they had imported fresh-potatoes from Spain, but decided against them. She would make do with last years potatoes in the winter black sack.Maybe she could bake them in the oven to make them taste better. 

After unpacking the groceries, she hurried together a pot of Earl Grey and made herself a couple of cheese sandwiches to go with the tea. Deciding that she was full enough to last until dinner she washed the dishes and made a quick go at the patio furniture. They were easily cleaned, since all she could afford was cheap white plastic chairs and a matching round table. 

The clock had not yet passed three in the afternoon. It was too early to start the preparations for dinner. She felt worn, her back ached slightly and her head was starting to pound. She considered taking an afternoon nap. After all, she had made good use of herself today. Beside that, was she not supposed to start thinking about herself? It was just a week ago that she solemnly promised her doctor to not overdo it and to get plenty of rest. 

**Chapter 1 ****- **


	2. Ripples on the Surface Chapter1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien… I don't earn any money from this!

**Beta- reader: **Dorothy Noland (((hugs)))

**Proof-reader:** Mike Kelley *** kisses***

Cheerleaders: Terri and Kit and Jon ~~~snargles~~~

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**Chapter 1**

She was floating, floating on her back in what felt like… warm water. 

Once when she was young, only twenty-two years old, she had a two-week vacation in Jerusalem. Peter had invited her along and paid for the whole trip including a tour to the Dead Sea. The water was almost impossible to swim in because it was so saturated with salt. All she could do was float. To be able to move around, she had flipped over on her back and paddled her feet and legs. She remembered that the water had been close to the same temperature as her body, so if she closed her eyes she almost had the feeling of floating in mid air. It had been intoxicating. A once in a lifetime experience that gave her a feeling of being safe, being cared for; as if she was floating in her mother's womb.

The realisation surprised her. She was not afraid! In fact, she was feeling quite safe and more content than she had felt in many years. Perhaps more so than in her entire life.

There was the face again. She smiled in recognition, though it rather annoyed her that she could not quite focus her eyes. She squinted and tried to force her sight to obey, yield under her command. But every time she thought she had caught it, the face floated away. Long dark hair… strands of raven silk… woman's hair… the eyes… the eyes of a man. Many things seen and unseen rested there, lurking just below the dark grey surface. The eyes like water reflections; observing and aware pools of kindness held her, caressed her. She felt like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car, unable to flee. Mesmerised, she was no longer sure she wanted to escape.

She tried to speak, wanted to ask for a name. So many questions rested within, but her mouth was no longer under her command, her tongue no longer under her will. Suddenly, she heard words floating from her lips, words that had never rested in her mouth. Thoughts she had never thought, entered her mind. So many years that she had lived, with the person she wanted to be. So many women she had acted and tried to become, but never succeeded in doing it well. She must dare to just "be", with memories of the child she once was but never became. Dare to let life choose, and dare to say yes. 

- "Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?" She was speaking words she did not understand, did not even recognise her own voice. Chanting the words she should not be able to articulate yet they felt right. They felt like they belonged to her. (Translation: The long years have passed like swift draught, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow. Who now shall refill the cup for me?)

***

She woke up to the sound of her own voice, unfamiliar and unaccustomed words still rolling off her tongue. She had dreamt again. 

This was unnerving. While peeling the shrimp and placing them in the bowl with lime marinade, she kept finding herself smiling while thinking about the man from her dream. Now she was sure it was the face of a man that kept recurring in her dreams. In a way, it bugged her. Was she so starved for love, her body so hungry for attention that she had to dream up a lover? Would the lovers in her dreams eventually become younger, more handsome, more…? 

"I'm being pathetic!" she spat, annoyed with herself. Shrugging, she tried to refocus on the task at hand. 

While the charcoal burned to a nice ember, she uncorked the bottle of red Cabernet Sauvignon she had brought with her. She knew she was not supposed to mix wine, or any other alcoholic beverage for that matter, with her current medication. Nevertheless, she had decided to treat herself to one last bottle of her favourite wine. What harm could it really do? So, she poured herself a glass of ruby coloured pleasure and instantly dropped her nose into the glass. The wine had an intense bouquet of Cabernet along with spicy oakiness and a cherry nuance on top. On the palate, it was exceptionally well balanced, having a pleasant texture with modest tannins. It amused her how she today without effort, could properly name and describe the heart and soul of a wine. Peter had been a demanding and impatient teacher, and she had remained an ever-patient student. I guess it is like riding a bike, once you have it; the skill stays with you forever.

Just as the shrimp was ready for the grill, it began to rain. Slowly at first, but after a few minutes it gushed down. The coals hissed and popped as she manoeuvred the grill under the protection of the porch roof. By the time the veal chops were done, she had developed quite a bad cough. This was not how she had planned this evening. The feeling of loneliness, emptiness crept close until it had wrapped itself around her.

She had managed to save most of her dinner from being completely soaked. Now she was trying to get back into her previously cheerful mood. Things never or seldom turn out the way you have planned them. This was a lesson learned by life. She set the indoor dining table instead, and sat down, filled with a new determination to try to enjoy the wine and the food. As the wine bottle grew emptier, the headache from earlier in the day increased and she got up and grabbed a couple of the Darvon® pills that she found among the rest of her medication.

***

She was cold and wet. Her head pounded fiercely and she was captured by a nauseating dizziness. With an effort, she pulled herself up a bit. She badly needed to throw up. After what seemed like an eternity of heaving and vomiting, she tried to get to her feet, away from the nasty remnants of her dinner. Slowly she realised that she was outside, standing on hands and knees on the lawn behind the house. Yes, she had been on her way to her car to… to… to get something. She did not remember what though. She understood that she needed to get inside, and quickly. She was chilled to the bone, shivering uncontrollably. 

The sound of her own coughing made her afraid that she was starting to develop yet a new pneumonia. That pneumonia, which would count as the third one this year alone. While trying to fight the waves of nausea that once again fell over her, she clutched the grass and the dizziness increased as she was slowly getting up on her two feet. She took a couple of staggering steps, steadying herself against the wood panelling on the back of the house. Dry heaves raging her body. Badly needing to vomit again, she turned and bent away seeing the ground closing in way too fast as she with a muffled cry hit the dirt. Then there was nothing.

**Chapter 2 ****--**


	3. Ripples on the Surface Chapter2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien… I don't earn any money from this!

**Beta- reader: **Dorothy Noland (((hugs)))

**Proof-reader:** Mike Kelley *** kisses***

Cheerleaders: Terri and Kit and Jon ~~~snargles~~~

**Authors Note:** Thank you for the reviews guys, and thank you for being so lenient with a first time fan fiction writer. It really thrills me to hear such nice and encouraging words about my English skills. I was very apprehensive about writing in English at first, but eventually the temptation became too much for me, and I just had to try it. I guess you can say that I thrive on challenges!

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**Chapter 2**

Once she heard someone say, that the last thing to leave a dying being is the hearing. It must have been when Peter died. She had been sitting by his bed for days, in a hushed voice talking to him, hoping that somewhere under the still surface of his face he would still be able to hear her. The nurses and doctors had passed by in a steady stream during her waking days and nights nodding knowingly and telling her that she did well. One of the younger nurses had told her, "Keep talking to him. There is a small chance that he may hear you or at least recognise the tone of your voice." Putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, the young nurse had added, "Even if he doesn't understand what you're saying, the sound of your voice will still calm him."

Wonder if it was her time to pass on now? She heard a voice talking to her, but she could not recognise any words, make no meaning out of what was being said. Nevertheless, someone was talking to her. Whispering words in her ear… words of comfort… words to calm her. A soft and gentle voice caressed in a low humming that went directly into her heart although the words held no meaning to her. She felt a warm breath against her ear and it was soothing, stroking her... Yes! Someone was definitely stroking her forehead with a warm and dry hand. Slowly she felt the hair from her face being pulled back, a hand resting on her forehead for a moment before it moved on to rest on her cheek.

Slowly her body began to make its presence known. She tried to shift a bit to ease the throbbing pain in her back, but she was unable to move, her muscles did not obey her command. She tried again, this time with more force, but all that accomplished was to send a spur of what felt like iced knives through her spine. The nausea came flushing back, and with it the urge to empty her stomach of any contents it may still hold.At that moment, the voice came back close to her ear. With a soft whisper, it breathed "Lanta kaima lirimaer." Accompanied by those words, she fell into blissful oblivion. (Translation: Sleep my lovely one.)

***

When she opened her eyes that morning, she knew that this day would be different, nothing like any other day so far in her life.

Reluctant to get out of bed, she tried to remember the evening before. She had vague memories of lying outside in the rain, on the ground, memories of being cold and afraid. She had been sick. She still could feel the aftertaste of her illness in her mouth. She had eaten her dinner, the rain that had started to pour down. Why had she been crawling in the grass? She had taken some pills for her headache. She had been drinking wine. "Darn!" She ought to know better than to mix alcohol with her medication. What had she been thinking? While scolding herself for her stupidity, she slowly climbed out of the bed. Her body stiff and a bit sore, but without the usual immobilising morning pain. I need to brush my teeth.

She quickly went through the usual morning procedure, put on a kettle of water for the tea and opened a window to let the day inside. The air was crisp and clear, like crystal. The wind was cool against her skin, the sky itself transparent yet spreading a spectrum of colours that painted the surroundings in pastoral shades. She felt tempted to reach out a hand and touch the landscape that softly spread and rolled beyond her view, its presence almost tangible. Stunned, she stood by the open window inhaling the freshness left by last night's rain. After just a few moments she withdrew, afraid that the feeling would make her succumb.

What was it she was going to succumb too? What was so different about today? The answer surprised her, without a second thought, she had an almost unbearable feeling of being alive. Never before had she felt so alive. She tried to shake the feeling and turned away. At that moment she realised that time itself somehow was unsynchronised. Although she only had been away from the stove and at the window for a few moments, the water in the kettle had almost vaporised completely.

Without hesitation, she decided to take a walk. The fact that she had not eaten or taken her morning medications made no difference. It was as if she was drawn outside, lured by a promise of freedom and rejuvenation. Directed by her feet's desire, she followed the gravelled path that winded up behind her cottage towards the distant hills.

***

When she had walked for what felt like an hour, she cursed herself for not having put on her arm watch. She turned around and could no longer see the red little cottage or the main road. But somehow she understood that she was not done walking yet. Time became unimportant as once again she felt the surge of life flooding through her veins… her life and the life force of everything that surrounded her. There was no room for astonishment or regret, just for acceptance and for her to keep on walking. Light-footed and timeless, eternal and unexplainable. No sense of mystic intervention or power of suggestion occurred to her. She just accepted and stayed on the path.

Time went by, seconds, minutes and hours. She was completely and utterly lost, trailing on a pathway she never before had walked. Many thoughts entered her mind just to vanish as quickly as they came. At that precise moment, she came upon the crossroad and stopped.Intensely aware of that if she walked on, she would enter another world. The insight was inexplicable. There was nothing unusual about this place, but still… something deep within her was aware of a sensation, a perception that on any other day she would have dismissed as absurd, but not this day. She hesitated only for a moment before continuing her walk with determination. 

The path took a turn, and opened up to a clearing that held a promise of rest. She sighed quietly as she looked around. There was a bench, and upon it sat a man watching her with kind and alert eyes. She immediately recognised him. It was the man from her dreams.

**Chapter 3 ****--**


	4. Authors Note

**Authors Note**

Hi to all of you who have read and reviewed my little fan fic so far, I just needed to drop by and let you know what's going on.

I've been having some health issues that have made me unable to write for some weeks. But I already have a huge part of the story 'written' down in my head already… Now it's just the job of getting it down in text. I have also gotten a beta-reader who will help me with the language since I'm not native to English.

This means two things… First, that what I have written so far may be slightly rewritten with the help of my beta Dorothy. Secondly, when I update with chapter 3, I will also republish the previously uploaded chapters that have been slightly altered. The story itself won't be changed however, so if you don't want to, there will be no need to reread them.

So, from a snowy and cold Scandinavia I hope you're all doing well, and that you will be ready for the next instalment in approximately a week or two.

Bibi


	5. Ripples on the Surface Chapter3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that belongs to Tolkien… I don't earn any money from this!

**Beta- reader: **Dorothy Noland (((hugs)))

**Proof-reader:** Mike Kelley *** kisses***

Cheerleaders: Terri and Kit and Jon ~~~snargles~~~

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**Chapter 3**

Uncertainty, doubt, apprehension… So many feelings crowded inside, struggling with each other, making her hesitate. The man sat in a relaxed posture, slightly reclined, one knee over the other and his hands calmly resting on top. Waiting, with observant eyes seeking hers, completely attentive as if he had expected her to come. All of a sudden she became very tired, drained as if coming home after a long and difficult journey. Without any words being exchanged, she sat down beside him and leaned back.

He slowly turned towards her and said, "I'm glad you finally decided to come."

Her rational side told her that she ought to be terrified. At the same time, deep inside it was as if she had expected him to say something similar. Trying hard to retain her composure, she turned to face him noticing how tall he was. Although they were both sitting down, she barely reached his shoulder.

"You have been waiting for me?" she asked with a voice more unsteady than she had wished. 

He nodded slightly in reply.

"I know you from…" she hesitated, unsure how to say what she herself had a hard time believing. She finally continued in almost a whisper unsure if her voice would carry, "…from my dreams." 

He lowered his head while raising his right hand to his heart, "I am Elrond." He said his name in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it would explain everything to her.

She opened her mouth slowly, hesitating to tell a stranger her name, "Well, my name is…"

He silenced her with a raised hand. "I know your name, but more importantly…" his eyes drilled into hers as he asked, "Who are you?"

Confusion and fear started to tumble inside, her mouth dry and her heart thundered in an uncontrollable rhythm. 'Who are you?' That question belonged to her, she thought. Who was this man, this man that had invaded her dreams and now sat so calmly beside her in broad daylight? How did he know her? Why did it appear as if he had been waiting for her, expecting her to come?

"I don't know." She managed to stutter, feeling even more confused than before. "How come you know my name?"

The man smiled at her, almost amused. Despite the mirth in his eyes, she did not feel like a fool because his demeanour remained open and friendly.

He ignored her question and lifted his hand to her face. She automatically flinched because old habits are hard to break, and he stopped his hand just an inch from her chin. "Why are you afraid of me?" He asked, still smiling down at her while his hand resumed its movement to touch the side of her face. The memory of the dream came back to her. She remembered how 'this' hand had felt on her cheek. She recognised his touch, and how warm and dry his hand had felt while it rested against her skin the previous night. 

She shook her head, not in reply or to remove his hand, but to try to rid herself of the overwhelming sensation that she was losing control. She realised that she was starting to succumb.

"Are you feeling ill?" Elrond asked with concern in his voice.

"No, but I feel so strange," she replied, swallowing hard. "I feel like I'm losing control," she added quietly and honestly, mostly to herself.

He must have heard her though. "Do not be afraid," he tried to calm with a tender voice. "I mean you no harm."

The concern in his voice irritated her, and she reacted the only way she knew how, with anger. "I'm not afraid of you," she bit back with a firm tone. She then realised that she probably sounded more confident than she must have appeared. Her hands were now shaking uncontrollably and she tucked them between her knees in an effort to hide them.

He did not reply. There was no need for that. He just reached out his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. "There, try to calm down," he hushed as he pulled her body close to his side and with his other hand leaned her head to rest against his chest. "Everything is alright. Everything is just as it is supposed to be," he whispered, repeating it over and over again while stoking her back as one would to calm a scared child.

She found safety and protection in this stranger's embrace. Her ear rested over his heart and through his chest, she sensed its beats so similar to the sound of waves breaking against a distant shore. The sound was comforting and called out to her, and soon her own heartbeat slowed to become one with his.

"I have heard your call for some time now, but the walls you have built around yourself have been hard for me to break through," he explained while still stroking her back, her hair. His words washed over her heart like warm water over a block of ice, and hopeful little rivulets poured like tears out of her eyes as her stoic resolve melted away. At that moment, something stirred deep inside of her… as a wish she had hidden for so many years… something she never would have dreamed to admit losing, not even to herself... Hope!

"I'll succumb," she sobbed. "I will succumb!"

***

She didn't remember how long she cried. It felt like an eternity. Eventually the tears subsided, and she found herself content in leaning and resting against the stranger's chest. His hands were still on her body, one on her lower back and one on the right side of her face. It didn't, however, make her feel awkward. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt right.

After a while, he slowly pushed her away and took her face between his palms, and with a tender touch turned her reluctant head to gaze into his dark, grey eyes. She was stunned at what she found there. Her own reflection stared back at her and she was beautiful, a beauty that came from within. Her face radiant with harmony and content, her wrinkles and worry lines were gone and her eyes glittered, as if they had captured stars. She found herself speechless. He just chuckled, delighted at her astonishment.

"You will get used to it," he told her. "It is called peace of mind."

He then released her face and rose to his feet, all in one swift move. "I must leave you now," he explained.

The moment was gone. The magic was broken, and with that came the sound of the winds rustling through leaves and the spring-delirious twittering of birds. She hadn't realised that they were gone, not until the moment they came rolling back crashing toward her senses again. She felt utterly spent and empty, drained of all energy and to top it off, she had no idea where she was.

"But first I will walk you back," he smiled reassuringly in response to her bewildered expression.

He gently placed his hand under her elbow and silently started to guide her down the path she had followed earlier, and this time she took notice of her surroundings. The man who called himself Elrond walked her through a landscape that captured her with its breathtaking charm. Soon she felt her body being filled with new energy and strength. After a while, she felt quite rested and Elrond let go of her arm. The woods gradually grew thinner and passed over into green hills. Gently rolling they went on towards the horizon, covered in a deep and lush verdure that were only occasionally interrupted by copses and birch groves.

A feeling of great joy slowly overcame her as she walked alongside the strange man. She noticed that as far as she could see, there where no signs of civilisation. She had never known that such a serene and undisturbed area existed here. Sure, she thought. She realized this was the countryside, but thought there ought to be cultivated land somewhere nearby. As soon as I get back home I will have to find this area on the map, if for no other reason than to return and better enjoy it in solitude.

As they walked together, time once again seemed to have ceased to exist. It ought to be late afternoon by now but as she turned her head up towards the sun, she could see that it had not yet reached noon. She had not eaten nor taken her medications this morning, yet she could feel no hunger or pain in her body. Eventually her body took its token, and she began to tire, and found herself falling behind. She tried to hasten her steps to walk beside him and in a breathless voice, talk to him and ask questions. He seemed to take little or no notice of her though, so she spent more and more time viewing Elrond's backside rather than her surroundings.

They walked for what seemed like hours and all the emotions from earlier started to surface again. Fragments of memories appeared so vividly she felt she could reach out and grasp them… but then they would fade and disappear like something or someone erased them from her mind. In their place came old, deeply buried and since long ago forgotten memories from her childhood, memories that made her remember how it was to feel loved and secure. However, with those flashbacks came the disturbing realisation that it was she who allowed the things that had happened to her later in life.

She tried to clear her head and reason with herself. There was something that did not add up. She thought that, at any minute, everything would return to normal, and the day and its events would have a perfectly valid, reasonable explanation. She once again lifted her eyes and looked at Elrond as he walked in silence in front of her. He walked without effort, his steps were soundless and at times his feet did not even touch the ground. At least, that was how it seemed to her. She felt a sting of envy as her own legs and feet now grew heavier with each step, and she frequently stumbled on each small obstacle in their path.

Finally, Elrond halted. He turned around and smiled towards her. "This is where our little journey ends," he told her. "Time is growing preciously short and I must leave." He reached out his hand and slowly stroked her chin. "But we will soon meet again," he added with a nod. He turned around and walked towards the trees in the small grove next to the pathway. Before she had time to react or speak, he was gone and out of sight.

**Chapter 4 ****--**


End file.
